All That is Hidden in the Mist
by FleetingButterfly
Summary: There was a legend, that up on the mountain there lived a demon who was born of mist. The monster was known only as "The Guardian of the Mountain" and was said to devour all who climbed the mountain looking for treasure. Gingka had never believed the tales. Until his father went missing. AU
1. The Demon-Slayer

**Warning: if you're looking for a happy ending, you won't find it here.**

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

_Just went up the mountain to catch some fish! Be back soon~ Your amazing dad :) P.S.- Kenta invited you over for lunch. Don't forget to feed Hokuto before you go over!_

Gingka read the crumpled note for the twenty sixth time before shoving back in his pocket. He returned to staring out the open window at the path leading up to their house. His dad had gone up the mountain this morning while he had been asleep. By now, it was already dark out. Ryo had never stayed so long on the mountain. He had always been back before nightfall. It was dangerous to be up there for too long.

_Dad... Where are you?_

He sat there until his eyes were slipping closed and his head was drooping. It was only then that he closed the window and went to bed, praying that he would wake up to Ryo's easy smile and contagious laughter.

That night he dreamt of glowing eyes and fangs in the mist.

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

"Is he still not back?" Kenta sounded worried.

"No." Gingka didn't lift his head from his arms, still exhausted from his the previous night's fruitless vigil.

"Did you tell an adult yet?" Madoka fretted, hands wringing together as she eyed a teacher as if considering whether or not to call her over.

"As if that'll help", Kyoya scoffed. "Adults are all bluster and talk. They never do anything."

"...Maybe it's the _Guardian_." Yuu sounded half in awe, half in fear.

"Yuu! Don't say that!" Tsubasa snapped at his little brother. At the little boy's huff of irritation, the silver-haired boy sighed, ruffling his Yuu's bright orange hair as an apology. "I'm sorry Gingka. Yuu didn't mean it. If there's anything we can do to help..."

Gingka's head shot up, his eyes pleading. "Will you help me look for him?"

Everyone at the lunch table immediately looked uneasy. Yuu and Kenta exchanged scared looks, Madoka studied the table's wood grain with wide eyes, while Kyoya and Tsubasa sported equally grim faces.

Gingka took one look and dropped his head back on to the table with a thump. "Never mind. Forget I said anything."

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

That night he packed his bags with everything he thought he would need. Both of the flashlights, a few extra batteries, his dad's hand-scrawled map, and some food and water. After a moment's hesitation he added a first aid kit, a change of clothes for both him and his dad, and his blanket. He wasn't sure how long he would be on the mountain, or in what condition he would find his father.

At dawn, he filled Hokuto's bowls with plenty of dog food and clean water. Though the dog was admittedly smart and almost seemed to understand what people were saying at times, Gingka did not want to risk him getting loose in the woods. With a final scratch behind Hokuto's ears, he turned to leave.

Before he left, he scribbled a hasty note for Kenta, who he walked to schoool with every morning. Gingka taped it to the outside of the front door:

_Gone after dad. Be back with him soon- Gingka:) P.S.- Someone please feed Hokuto while I'm gone._

He could hear the dog's whines and scrabbling paws through the door. "I'll be back soon, boy. Someone will take care of you until then. Promise."

With that he turned and didn't look back until he was alone and far past the town's outskirts. He was on Mist Mountain.

He didn't hear Hokuto's anguished howls behind him.

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

_"Listen to your parents, or the demon will come and eat you!"_

_"I dare you... to go up the mountain." "No way! I'll be eaten alive!"_

_"Don't go out. It's too foggy tonight; the Guardian must be on the prowl."_

Gingka had heard the stories. Everyone in the village had. The Guardian was the equivalent of the bogeyman. He was the monster under little kid's beds, the cause of mysterious disappearances, and the reason why people stayed away from the mountain, despite the rumours of treasure on it. He was the demon born of the mist and guardian of all that the mist concealed.

He'd never believed the tales. He's just moved here shortly after his mother's death a few years ago, so he hadn't been raised hearing the stories like the rest of the village children. Not only that, but his dad periodically went up the mountain to fish. Nothing tasted better than the fish from the creeks up there. His father always joked that the Guardian had never been interested in eating him because he was so tough and muscley. Everyone in the town knew where he went to fish, and they all regarded him with mixtures of fear, amazement, or disapproval.

Gingka himself had been subject to the opinions of some of the townspeople. A few kids in the village refused to even come near him, and a couple of older boys started to bully him. Thankfully, his close circle of friends always supported and banded around him, so he continued to look forward to school. (Well, he liked lunchtime at least; the classes were kinda boring.)

To him, the Guardian was just a story, a way to keep naughty children out of trouble.

But now his father was missing. And Gingka was starting to fear that the culprit was the Guardian.

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

It was cold. Gingka had wrapped his blanket around his shoulders like a cloak, but he still shivered in the chill. Though it must already be mid-morning, the mist was so thick that the sunlight couldn't burn through.

He squinted at his father's badly drawn map. Ryo had made it as neat as he could, but with all of the marker colours he had used bleeding together, it looked like a rainbow had just barfed on the paper. On top of that, he had random notes and doodles scrawled in the margins: a reminder to buy more dog food, a lopsided horse with wings, and a blue-eyed stick figure wearing a dress.

Gingka sighed as he attempted to decipher the names of the landmarks he was supposed to find.

_The...does that say Scratched Tree? _

At that moment, he tripped over something and ended up sprawled on the forest floor. Groaning, he picked himself up gingerly. _At least I didn't sprain my ankle or something_, he thought as he examined a shallow gash on his forearm. He turned to see what he had fallen over.

_Oh, so it _is_ the Scratched Tree._

He had tripped over the carcass of a dead tree. Deep gouges were dug into its rotting trunk, ripping diagonally across the bark.

They looked like claw marks.

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

After he had left the tree behind and passed "The Rock Shaped like a Fat Hippo" and "The Tree with Wet Noodle Branches", he finally found the creek (dubbed The Most Awesomest Fishing Place Evah!) where his father always fished in.

The water was fresh and cool, which felt like heaven to his tired and aching feet. He rested a moment to fill the empty water bottles and to snack on some of the chips he had packed. Then he started up the brook, looking for any signs of his dad.

He had only walked a short while before he came upon Ryo's fishing gear. The old wooden fishing pole was leaning against a tree trunk, and the dented tackle box with Hagane stamped boldly on the lid was set neatly beside it. Gingka peeked inside the box. It was empty.

Gingka frowned; his dad usually had the box filled to the brim with cans of bait and tackle. There was no way that he had used it all.

"What are you doing here?"

Gingka jumped. He whirled around. A boy, who looked to be around his age, regarded him coolly. The stranger had pale hair fluffed messily around his head, tanned skin, and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a strange robe, and wore long, fingerless gloves

"Who are you?!" Gingka stammered, surprised to find anyone else on the mountain.

"It doesn't matter who I am. You need to get off the mountain. Now." The boy snapped, his eyes sharp and flinty.

"I can't leave; I need to find my dad!" Gingka protested hotly as his hands curled into fists.

"Do you _want_ to get eaten? Your dad is probably already dead. You have no business here. Leave." The boy stated hauntily before striding forward to brush past him.

"My dad is not dead! And what business do _you_ have here?" Gingka demanded, turning around to follow him. "You can't tell me to leave and then stay yourself. That makes you a hypocrite!"

The stranger paused, his form just barely shrouded in the ever-present mist. "A hypocrite?" He laughed mirthlessly. "I guess I am."

His eyes seemed so old and sad as he stared back at Gingka.

"You asked what my reason to be here was? I am here to kill the demon."

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

A/N: So I know I should be working on Whispers in the Dark, but this plot bunny has been eating away at me. ^_^' Apologies if anyone seemed OOC. So what happened to Ryo? And does the Guardian exist? Tell me what you think in the comments!


	2. The Treasure Hunter

**Warnings: some violence, blood, hints of self-harm/suicide, and a major character death.**

**Note: Ryuto is the white-haired boy that debuts in Metal Fight 4-D. In the manga, he is Ryuga's brother. **

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

"Stop following me." The boy sounded tired now, no longer haughty and cold.

"You're looking for the demon, and I'm looking for my dad. We should help each other." Gingka pointed out. He hesitated before asking,"Do you think that the monster will have my dad?"

The stranger didn't bother to answer or even to spare him a glance. He continued at his brisk pace, forcing Gingka to scramble to catch up.

"Hey, wait! I'm not leaving this place until I find my father. So if you want me gone faster, you might as well help me." Gingka shouted.

The other person whirled around angrily. "What part of him being dead do you not understand?!"

"He's not dead." Gingka stared determinedly at the boy. "He's alive, I can feel it. So I can't just leave him here. I've got to help him."

The demon hunter gave a huff of annoyance, but something like amusement or approval glittered in his eyes. "Fine. If you're going to be so stubborn, I might as well help you.

"Really? Thank you so much!" Gingka was glad to have some kind of guide. He wasn't sure where look next, and the boy looked like he knew where he was going. "My name's Gingka, what's yours?"

"...I go by many names, but you can call me Dunamis."

…~*~...~*~...~*~...

They walked in a semi-awkward silence along the river. Gingka had attempted to strike up conversation, but Dunamis's responses had been stilted and slightly curt. However, Gingka sensed that the boy wasn't really trying to be rude. It felt more like Dunamis didn't really know how to interact in a friendly manner, but not for the lack of trying.

Either way, Gingka was growing tired and increasingly worried about his dad. He wasn't sure how to deal with a demon hunter who, despite looking to be about Gingka's age, had the weary, jaded eyes of a man who had seen far more of the world than he had.

So Gingka let their somewhat one-sided chatting lapse into quiet.

They had been walking less than half an hour by the river before they came across the traces of the monster. By the riverbank, there were signs of struggle: scuffed ground, crushed plants, and a few spots of blood. But Gingka did not drop down to examine them like Dunamis did. Instead, the boy found himself staring at a scrap of blue material caught on a nearby bush.

With trembling hands, Gingka pulled it free. He turned the fabric over and couldn't hold back a gasp.

_No… No, this can't be happening! Nonono!_

It was his father's headband.

If not for its distinctive yellow Pegasus design, it would had been shredded past any recognition. Its tattered edges were stained with scarlet.

Gingka fell to his knees, the headband clutched tightly to his chest. He felt the tears running down his face and the cries ripping from his throat, but inside he felt strangely numb. Hollow.

Distantly, he felt a touch at his shoulder as a hand tentatively stroked down his back in a vaguely comforting way.

"I'm sorry." Dunamis murmured, his eyes shadowed.

And Gingka couldn't stop crying, couldn't stop sobbing, but Dunamis stayed and held him.

"He's all I had left." Gingka finally hiccuped out. His throat sore and scratchy, but his eyes were dry. He buried his head in his arms again, shudders wracking his frame. "Dad...how could this happen? Why?!"

"The demon tears apart lives and families. It is a creature without a heart." Dunamis whispered.

"That is why my duty is to destroy it."

…~*~...~*~...~*~...

They set up camp a little bit away from the scene, as night was descending quickly on the mountain. Gingka was sore and aching all over, emotionally and physically. Sensing his agony, Dunamis quietly told him to rest while he himself went to catch some dinner. Gingka slumped exhaustedly against a tree. He felt only half-lucid, as if all that he had gone through had been some kind of terrible nightmare. He closed his eyes, just for a moment... and then found himself blinking awake on the ground. He groaned groggily, raising his head, which felt like a lead weight.

Dunamis stared at him, a startled look on his face. He was roasting fish by a cheerfully blazing fire, but that wasn't what caught Gingka's attention.

Dunamis had taken his gloves off.

His forearm and the back of his hands were almost completely covered with the mottled splotches of old burns. Not only that, but scratch-like scars were scored heavily across his wrists.

Gingka couldn't stop the gasp that escaped him, unable to tear his gaze from the terrible wounds. Dunamis turned and hurriedly pulled his gloves back on, hiding the permanently marred skin from view.

There was a brief moment of silence, both boys not daring to say anything as the food crackled and hissed while it cooked. Finally, Dunamis cleared his throat.

"Would you like some fish?"

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

Gingka shifted again on the uncomfortable bed of leaves. He pulled his blanket more securely over himself to protect against the night's chill. Even though his stomach was warm with delicious food that he had merely picked at, Gingka didn't feel the familiar lull of sleep. He didn't want to fall asleep. Was _afraid _of going to sleep.

The scrap of blue fabric was a heavy, burning weight in his pocket.

He glanced over to the other boy. Dunamis sat with his back towards him, apparently staring into the fire.

"Go to sleep Gingka. The demon will not come tonight." Dunamis whispered as he heard leaves crunching, the sound of Gingka turning over once again. "The flames keeps it away."

"It knows that fire is the only thing that can kill it."

The rustling paused.

"Okay." Gingka said quietly, "Thank you."

A moment later, Dunamis heard faint snores.

Dunamis lifted his head towards the shrouded stars and felt the weight of Gingka's trust settle heavily over his shoulders.

He did not sleep that night.

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

Gingka awoke and for a moment thought himself to be in his own bed. Warmth was draped lazily over his limbs and something soft was tucked under his head. _A dream. Just a dream._

But when he moved slightly, he heard and felt leaves crunching faintly beneath him.

_Dad is really…_

He closed his eyes and took a deep, quivering inhale. In the firelit night, he heard a similar hitched breath. His eyes snapped open.

Dunamis was crying.

It was almost completely silent, just tears leaving bright tracks down his face and clinging to his lashes, as his shoulders shook with the barest of sobs.

Gingka found it almost inexplicably sad. _I think that Dunamis lost someone dear to the monster too. And to cry like this...why does he suppress his feelings? I feel like I caught a few glimpses of who he really is. He's sad and lonely under that cold armour he puts on, he really is. His story must be so tragic. Those scars..._

Gingka closed his eyes, feeling like he wasn't close enough to the other boy to be privy to such a display of emotion. _Dad, how can I help him?_

_I don't know what to do without you._

…~*~...~*~...~*~...

Gingka was startled awake by a surprised shout. He pushed himself up, disorientated and still half-asleep.

Dunamis was grappling with another boy by the fire. They tumbled apart as Gingka leapt towards the fray, a surprised exclamation leaving his lips.

Dunamis seemed largely unaffected, panting slightly with a thin cut at the the corner of his mouth. The other boy was gasping for air, gripping his stomach where the demon-hunter had undoubtedly punched him, with a scrape across his arm and a purple bruise rapidly swelling on his cheekbone.

The boy had spiky, snow white hair, with a patch of startling red hair sticking up at the side of his head and falling to frame his face. His eyes were a golden amber that flashed liquidly in the light of the fire. He was wearing a green vest over a white shirt, paired with sturdy black pants. A scuffed and dirt-stained rucksack was slung securely over his shoulder.

"Truce, truce!" The boy managed to get out, chest still heaving. "Calm down! I just wanted to say hi, I swear."

Gingka looked between Dunamis and the stranger, bewildered. "What happened?!"

The stranger barked out a laugh that sounded vaguely like a wheeze of pain. "I saw the fire and got curious about who else would be on this mountain. Your buddy just jumped on me the moment he saw me."

Gingka scratched his head. While he trusted Dunamis's judgement, despite barely knowing him, the boy did not seem to mean any harm. "Okay, how about we start over. I'm Gingka. Who are you?"

The boy plopped down on the ground with a groan. "I'm Ryuto. Nice to meet'cha. Now who's the one who beat me up?"

"I'm Dunamis." The demon-hunter said curtly, sitting himself down cross-legged.

Gingka joined him on the ground, the two of them facing the newcomer. Ryuto seemed unperturbed, merely eyeing Dunamis warily before turning his attention to Gingka, who was obviously the friendlier one.

"Are you two after the treasure too?"

Gingka raised his eyebrows. "Treasure? Are you a treasure hunter then?"

The village had housed treasure hunters before. Each one had gone up the mountain because of the rumors of an ancient, precious item hidden among the mist. And guarded by a monster.

Almost all had returned from the mountain empty-handed and discouraged, having not found anything. The rest had simply not returned.

Ryuto smirked, seemingly recovered from his quick brawl with Dunamis. "Yep. I came for the treasure, and I'm not leaving without it."

"Why? You must of heard of the Guardian. No one's been able to find the treasure, let alone get past that demon." Dunamis cut in, eyes narrowed as he stared at the treasure-hunter.

Beside him, Gingka felt grief welling up at the mention of the Guardian. _Dad..._

"You shouldn't try to find the treasure. You should leave before it's too late." Dunamis's words were quiet but resounding in their finality.

"No." Ryuto's voice was firm, but tinged with an edge of desperation. "I need to find this treasure, no matter what."

"Why do you want the treasure so bad?" Gingka couldn't help but ask. Ryuto's eyes were so bright and determined. It reminded him more than anything of...

_No, stop thinking about it._

Ryuto's eyes lost their brittle sharpness. He moved to lay on his back, arms crossed behind his head. A sad look crossed his face, shadows deepening beneath frowning lips and lowered eyelashes.

"My brother, Ryuga, was also looking for the treasure. He said that he'd heard that it granted the owner great power. We'd been living in a tough situation, on the streets, 'cause our folks abandoned us a while back. We'd constantly have to watch each other's backs. We survived, and he protected me from what he could. But he hated feeling weak and poor."

Ryuto's eyes shifted to stare at his audience. Gingka seemed empathic, eyes downcast and focused on the storyteller. But Dunamis's face was blank, half thrown in shadow by the dying firelight.

Ryuto chuckled, its sound more melancholy and nostalgic than anything else. He closed his eyes, lost in his bittersweet memories once again.

"One day, we met a man. His name was Doji, and he said that he saw potential in my brother. He offered a job. We needed the money, believe me. The first couple jobs were fairly easy. Ryuga just had to go places, overcome some obstacles, and retrieve items. The pay was good, and my brother was happy to use his skills to earn us a living. But then, Doji hired him for another job."

The treasure-hunter opened his eyes, their depths dark and remembering.

"He was to find the treasure on this mountain."

Ryuto sighed. "He never came back."

Ryuto heaved himself into sitting position, his eyes glaring fiercely once again.

"But I know my brother. Something made him disappear, and it has to do with that treasure. I'm going to find the treasure and find Ryuga."

Dunamis laughed hollowly. "A touching story, but in the end, faulty logic and bravado won't save you from the monster. You should just leave." The demon hunter glanced sideways at Gingka, regret evident in his expression.

"Leave before the demon tears you apart."

Ryuto glared at Dunamis. "Why do you keep going on about the "demon" anyway? For all you know, it's probably just some lie conjured up to protect the wounded pride of those who failed to get the treasure. You talk like you know so much about it, but there's only rumors about it."

Dunamis's eyes caught the flickering firelight and seemed to glow for a fleeting moment. "I keep my friends close, and my enemies even closer." His smile was dagger-sharp.

Ryuto's face darkened with a sudden suspicion. "What are you two doing on this mountain anyway, if you aren't here for the treasure."

Dunamis's eyes were flat, but assessing. "You've already guessed, haven't you? I'm here to kill the demon."

Gingka stared at the ground, unable to stop the tears that escaped his eyes. He exhaled shakily "Ryuto, I'm sorry, but you should leave. The demon's real. Believe us. My father..."

He gulped past the lump in his throat. "My father was killed by that monster. I came to find my dad after he went missing. But now... I don't know what I'm going to do."

Ryuto seemed at loss as he stared at Gingka. He didn't remember his own father, but he still had the idea that his own dad had not been the best of parental figures. Ryuga had not spoken much of their parents, let alone their dad, but Ryuto had still conjured the idea of an uncaring man who had thrown them to the streets at the first opportunity.

But he'd seen fathers and their sons. He'd seen the pride in the fathers' eyes and the happiness in the sons'. He knew that such bonds were as strong as, if not stronger than, his love for his own brother. His only family. Even if his own dad had been a failure, he knew that other fathers were the world to their sons. And Gingka was obviously not an exception.

Ryuto cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly. "Hey, I know that you're sad, and you miss your dad. But you've got to move forward. When Ryuga disappeared, I just...shut down for a while. I got into a really dark place in my head, and I wanted to just end it."

Ryuto regarded Gingka with a solemn expression. "But thinking like that gets you nowhere. It just makes things worse. You can't just give up on life. You've got to keep on living and growing, for your dad as much as for yourself."

Gingka stared at him, shocked. He knew that he couldn't give up on life, on his future. Gingka was certain that his father wouldn't have wanted that. But he'd been so engulfed in a cloud of despair that such depressing thoughts had crept in, sinking their claws into his mind.

Ryuto's words struck a chord in him. He was right. He needed to snap out of it and think about how to move on. For his dad, as well as for himself.

He could go back to the village, but he had no family left there. Only friends who couldn't help him no matter how much they wanted to. He'd be condemned to time in the orphanage until he came of age.

Gingka did not want to go back to that fate, at least not yet.

Because there was this fury simmering within him. His father was such a good man, filled with laughter, bravery, and love. He had harmed no one. He had made sure that Gingka's motherless childhood was happy and fulfilling. He did not deserve to die, torn apart by some monster.

Gingka would not stand for this injustice.

He looked Dunamis in the eye. "I'll go with you to kill the demon."

Ryuto looked surprised for a moment before laughing, half incredulously. "Hey, count me in. Where the monster is, there's bound to be the treasure, right? Plus, strength in numbers."

Dunamis's eyes were flinty. "You two should leave. The monster is dangerous. There is nothing for you here, not revenge, not treasure."

"I won't let you face it alone then." Gingka's eyes were filled with a stubbornness that Dunamis knew all too well. "You're my friend now, and I help my friends. And I need to see for myself, the monster that killed my dad. I need to see it dead to know that it won't kill anyone ever again."

Ryuto jumped to his feet, his eyes shining with a matching unyieldingness. "I just want the treasure. I need it to to find my brother. If that means I have to kill a demon, then so be it. I'll do it with or without you guys."

Dunamis sighed. His blue eyes seemed dull. "I can't stop you two, can I? Fine. We set off for the demon's lair tomorrow morning. Get some rest. I'll keep watch."

His tone left no room for argument, and he turned back to face the flames. Gingka and Ryuto settled down to sleep, while Dunamis sat vigil by the dying campfire.

The stars were cold eyes, watching over the three boys.

Dunamis stared up at them with equally cold eyes, something like sorrow flickering across his face. His fingers traced the scars on his arms, hidden beneath his gloves.

_Tomorrow... I'm afraid that the demon will awaken._

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

In the morning, they set off into the cool swirling mist, leaving nothing but ashes behind.

They walked along the river for what seemed like hours. The sun could not burn off the all-encompassing fog, but their surroundings did warm up and become somewhat brighter.

Gingka and Ryuto exchanged stories. Gingka made sure to veer away from the memories of his father. It was too soon; the wound was still too fresh. And indignant anger seemed to bubble up at the very thought of his dad. But he spoke of his friends, of their adventures and of the fun they had shared. Ryuto told tales of his brother, both pride and sorrow evident in his voice. Dunamis led the way with unfalteringly, but he listened attentively to their accounts of their lives. The demon hunter knew he could not keep the wistfulness from his expression, so he made sure to keep on moving forward and hid his face in the shadow of his bangs.

The three trekked their way up the mountain, stopping occasionally to rest or snack. Their surroundings seemed almost peaceful. Ryuto and Gingka made some efforts to include Dunamis in their conversations. The demon hunter seemed to be unsure of how to respond to their easy camaraderie, but eventually began to contribute the occasional comment or question.

Dunamis could not keep the smile from his face as he started to interact more with the other two boys. It was a new feeling for him, this contagious friendliness. The last time he'd been this happy had been...

_Don't think about it._

The mist suddenly seemed too oppressive, dampening his senses. His field of vision was blanketed in white, and his ears were met with an abrupt silence. The voices of Gingka and Ryuto disappeared.

His chest and neck exploded in pain.

A scream tore his way from his throat.

...~*~..~*~...~*~...

The fog seemed to thicken around them, swallowing up Dunamis's form. The other two did not notice. Gingka was caught up in telling Ryuto an engaging story involving Kyoya and a mountain lion.

But a scream shattered the calm.

Ryuto froze, eyes widening. "Where's Dunamis?!"

Gingka could not answer. He could barely see the treasure hunter in the stifling mist, let alone locate Dunamis. Panic was swelling up within him.

"We've got to find him!" Ryuto shouted, charging forward. Instantly, he vanished.

"Ryuto! Dunamis!" Gingka staggered through the haziness, searching for a trace of his newfound friends. But all he could see was swirling white.

Another scream tore through the fog.

Gingka felt terror race through his veins. He recognized that voice.

It was Ryuto.

"Ryuto! Where are you? Are you hurt?" Gingka yelled, unable to keep the fear from creeping into his thoughts. _Is it the Guardian? Has he attacked Dunamis and Ryuto? I need to find them!_

"G-Gingka." It was barely there, but Gingka heard it. A weak, quivering, but horribly familiar voice.

"Ryuto!" Gingka dove in the direction of the sound.

All the air rushed out of his lungs, punched out by shock and horror, when he finally found the treasure hunter.

The white-haired boy lay in a crumpled heap at the base of a gnarled tree. Blood was splattered vividly against the green of his vest and the material of his ripped rucksack that had been flung a few feet away. A crimson stain was spreading across his shredded shirt from the wound torn across his abdomen.

Gingka couldn't stop a sob from escaping as he fell to his knees beside the treasure hunter.

Ryuto fought for breath, each inhale dragged forcefully and painfully down his throat. He grasped at Gingka's clothes, hands clawing at the fabric and leaving scarlet behind.

"Gin-Gingka..." The boy gasped out, his eyes beginning to slide shut. The once bright gold irises had dulled to a flat yellow-brown.

Gingka bent down, his face shining with tears. "It's okay. I've got you. You're gonna be alright."

They both knew that he wouldn't make it.

Gingka clasped the limp hands in his own, uncaring that blood smeared all over his shaking fingers. "I'll destroy it, I'll stop this chain of death. I promise you, Ryuto."

The treasure hunter smiled faintly. His chest rose. His chest fell.

He did not move again.

...~*~...~*~...~*~...

A/N: Hello, I'm back! I'm truly sorry for the long wait, but this chapter just seemed to never want to be finished. It's twice the length of the first chapter. 0.o Anyway, thanks to anyone who has read this fic and stuck around for an update. And a huge thank you to all the reviewers! ^_^ I can't promise when the next update will be up, but I hope that everyone will stay interested in this fic.


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